Hugs & Kisses

It's Valentine's Day and I totally forgot to bring in my tub of heart-shaped sugar cookies I made with my grandmother this weekend. I hate it when I forget things. But it may be just as well because the frosting tasted funny. I don't know how you go wrong with butter, condensed milk, powdered sugar and vanilla, but my sister and I were both giving each other the "this tastes like butt" face and plotting to distribute cookies to various enemies and evil roommates. And then my grandma was all, "Just give them to Phillip. He'll eat them." And my grandmother? IS ALWAYS RIGHT. She also said that my coworkers wouldn't notice anything either (which is true, because something just has to LOOK like sugar and these people will suck it down), so I'll be bringing my cookies tomorrow.

I called my folks this weekend to say hello.

ME: Are you having a Valentine's Day party for your class?

DAD: No. I hate Valentine's Day.

ME: You do understand that receiving Valentines is VERY IMPORTANT to eleven-year-old girls.

DAD: I don't care. You think I care? I don't care. Twits. All of 'em.

ME: What if they show up with Valentines? Are you going to let them pass them out?

DAD: Maybe if they bring me candy. I do accept bribes.

ME: Are you doing anything for Mom?

DAD: I never do anything for Valentine's Day.

ME: DAAAAAD! You can't even get her some CHOCOLATE?

DAD: Valentine's Day is a stupid holiday. Why should I give Hallmark more money?

ME: It doesn't matter what YOU think. You're supposed to make Mom feel SPECIAL.

DAD: I make her feel special every day of the year.

ME: *silence*

ME: SNORT. SNORT. *FREAKISHLY LOUD GALES OF LAUGHTER*

DAD: I'm hanging up now.

There are no Valentine plans, as the Archdiocese of Seattle in its glorious wisdom has scheduled the Rite of Election tonight at the cathedral. Sounds intimidating, huh? Phillip and I have been RCIA sponsors since September and we still can't figure out the distinctions between the catechumenate, the candidates, the Elect, the catechists and what happens to you if you've been baptized, but you didn't have your First Communion and then you got divorced now you're 47 years old. Anyway, we'll be there to stand up with our respective candidates and whisper the right answers in their ears when the bishop starts grilling them on medieval Catholic history. Because if you want to be a Catholic you totally have to know which Pope canonized which Saint in 1354. Otherwise they won't let you into church. Didn't you know? That's what the sponsors are for. I've been training my candidate to read my lips, just in case.

Comments

[lee]

dun-dun-daaaahhh!

[Speez]

Maggie, be careful, I heard the Pope has been reading this blog...